George Caine burst out of his room as he heard his mother’s screaming voice from the other verge of the house.

“Mom, is everything okay?” he asked.

“Why, son? Why am I not getting hired? Am I not enough to work for their companies?” Mariam Caine responded.

George rushed to the kitchen to get some water as she was heavily breathing. She usually got sick when she was stressed. She lived with asthma.

“Mom, here’s water. Where can I get your pump?” She did not respond. “Mom?” George wanted to be sure if she could hear him.

“Relax, son. I am fine. Worry less about me. I will not give up! I will stand up and look for another job,” she finally responded.

Droplets dropped out of her eyes as she was smiling. She was trying to hide her inner pain with a smile. She forgot something; George was her son and could sense her when she was fine or not.

“Son, I need some space. I am going out” she stated.

“Where are you off to?” he asked.

“I do not even know where I am going. I just want to clear my head. Wait for me to come back,” she said.

“Should I come with you?”

“No, stay here until I come back” she commanded.

On her way out, she met Mrs. Dlamini, a well-off woman in town. She had a tavern. She was a single mother of two girls, Zinhle and Bongi. Zinhle was at a tertiary intitution finishing her engineering degree, while Bongi was in matric. George, on the other hand, had dropped out of school because Mariam could not afford transport, school fees, and school uniform. Also, he had to take care of her health.

“Where are you off to, Mariam Caine?” Mrs. Dlamini asked. She also sold drugs and no one messed with her. She could kill you with her bare hands.

“I do not know! I just want to clear my head,” she responded.

“You are not okay, are you?”

“Worry less about me. Everyone has their problems. No matter the size of the problem, it must be solved,” Mariam responded.

“What is it that is bothering you?” Mrs. Dlamini asked curiously.

“If you were to save me, I would kneel and plead for rescue. For you are a man; you have your own problems. Maybe they do not match mine. So why should I burden you with my problems?” Mariam asked.

“Money problems, isn’t it?” Mrs. Dlamini asked curiously.

“What are you? Are you a prophet?” Mariam asked curiously.

“Words spoken by your spirit speaks louder than words from your tongue. Talk to me” Mrs. Dlamini said.

“That is not true. Money is a problem to most people. Therefore, money is not considered as a problem right now. Why should I worry about something that only comes after you sweated yet I am not sweating? I need a job,” Mariam said, fiddling with her hands.

Mariam’s eyes were turning red with tears. Mrs. Dlamini needed someone to deliver the stock to other areas of her map.

“Mrs. Caine, waking up every morning heading to work is not the only way to make money,” Mrs. Dlamini stated.

“What are you saying?” Mariam puzzled.

“Don’t you know how expensive information is? I cannot just tell a commoner such information,” she left.

“Mrs. Dlamini? I am desperate. Currently, I do not have anything to eat. I need to send my son to school, also I need to take care of my health. How can I take care of my health without money?” she asked pleadingly.

“Mrs. Caine, this information is not for soft-hearted people. You must be bold and strong!” she stated. Mrs. Caine’s face was turning red but she was frightened.

“I am all ears,” Mrs. Caine said.

“I am not supposed to share this information with anyone, and if I chose to tell someone about it, that person must be trustworthy,” Mrs. Dlamini moved close to Mrs. Caine and made strong eye contact.

“Mrs. Dlamini, I am desperate. I can even do anything that will rescue me,” she stated.

Tell us: What do you think this job could be?